


The Bennington Triangle

by NaughtyPastryChef



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mutual Pining, Old Gods, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyPastryChef/pseuds/NaughtyPastryChef
Summary: Not long after Sam leaves college behind and starts hunting with his brother again, he finds a series of disappearances in Bennington Vermont going back hundreds of years. It started with just a few and was infrequent but whatever is taking these people and leaving no trace is getting greedier as the years pass.The boys travel to Vermont to look into the case, but Dean isn’t feeling like himself and it’s got Sam concerned.(Inspired by a series of true disappearances in Bennington, Vermont in the 1950's for the first inaugural SPN Eldritch Bang)





	The Bennington Triangle

**Author's Note:**

> art by Magdalena5880 (spunsugarj2fantasy on tumblr) who was a delight to work with and an amazing artist and this is her very first Bang Y'all so make sure to go on over to see her masterpost and give her some love and encouragement. She is talented as heck and we need more artists like her.  
> beta-ed by Kelios, THANK YOU!(though I messed with it an awful lot once she was done so all remaining mistakes/tense changes/confusion can be laid solidly at my feet)  
> This is not as scary as some of the other fic in this challenge, but I think it's creepy and I really like the story, so I hope y'all do too.

 

 

“Him. He’s the one. Horrible, disgusting thoughts.” Verity leaned out from behind the giant oak to better see the two boys walking past their hidden home.

“Sister I see nothing in his mind but love, caring and a desire to help others.” Constance observed the boys from behind the tree as well, her face wrinkled in confusion.

“Hush, sister, or do you want to end up like Amity and be his next sacrifice?” Verity spat back but her hissed whispers were heard by the boys in the woods and they drew their weapons and circled back to each other, back to back.

Constance and Verity glared at each other as they withdrew from the scene and headed back into their home. “The love, caring, and desire were all aimed at his brother. Filthy boy, wanting to take advantage of and ruin his brother like that. He deserves to die. Enlil will have his sacrifice, sister.”

**ONE WEEK PREVIOUSLY**

“So I think I found a case.” Sam started talking even before he’d handed Dean the coffee he’d picked up from the gas station down the street. Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his hair sticking up every which way and his eyes barely open as he reached for the paper cup.

“Okay, now that you’re all gung-ho again, college boy, let’s hear it,” Dean mumbled, more to his coffee than to his bright eyed and awake brother.

“Bennington, Vermont. So there have been these disappearances in the same patch of woods going back for years. The earliest one I can track in the paper is from 1945 but I did a little digging and there is a pattern that goes both back in time and forward. Whatever is taking these people, killing them presumably, is getting greedier. The disappearances are coming faster together and they’re taking more people each time. This isn’t natural, it’s our type of thing.”

Dean smacked his lips and looked up at his giant little brother, his thoughts meandering in a direction that he was too tired to derail. He wasn’t thinking about the potential case. He wasn’t thinking about the long drive to Vermont from Ohio. He was thinking about how nice Sam’s legs looked in the baggy, worn jeans he was wearing. He was lamenting that he’d woken up too late to listen to Sam in the shower and hearing all that water beating down on his lanky frame. He was thinking how sexy Sam was when he used that big brain of his.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head to clear it; he had to get over this. When he opened his eyes he could see Sam crouched in front of him with a worried look on his face.

“Enough with the puppy dog eyes this early, huh? I’m fine,” Dean snarked. Sam said nothing, only tilting his head to the side and waiting.

Against his better judgement, Dean pulled one hand off his coffee cup and wrapped it around Sam’s neck, pulling him close enough that they were sharing breaths as their foreheads touched. “I swear to you, Sammy. I’m fine. You done good, sounds like a real case. Lemme get showered while you start scrounging all the lose change from the car for all the tolls, cause from here to Vermont it’ll be i-90 all the way, dammit.”

Sam laughed in Dean’s face and gave his knee a quick, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it squeeze before shoving himself to his feet and pulling the keys to the Impala out of his pocket. Dean watched Sam head towards the door, then stop short and turn quickly. “If I find enough cash to cover all the tolls, do I get to drive till we need to stop for gas?”

“Yeah, Sammy, you find thirty bucks in loose change and dollar bills in the backseat of the car and you can drive till the first pit stop.” Dean laughed, pushing himself up off the bed and towards the bathroom to shower. Sam would never find that much money hiding in Baby’s back seat, and they both knew it. But it was always interesting to see just how much Sam could try to get away with.

Dean was still shaking his head and laughing internally as he tried to make himself comfortable in the passenger seat an hour later. He sulked out the window as Sam listened to his 90’s alternative music station and watched the signs pass them by.

“Are you gonna sulk the whole time I’m driving?” Sam asked as he turned down the radio and peeked at Dean from the corner of his eye.

“No. Just trying to focus on something other than getting this music stuck in my head, is all.” Dean knew he was pouting, Sam knew he was pouting but to his shock, Sam didn’t call him on it. Nor did he turn the radio back up, which is exactly what Dean would have done had their positions been switched.

“We’re at a quarter tank now. Next service station I see I’ll pull in and we can switch,” Sam offered softly. “I, uh, have some more info on the case, if you wanna grab my bag from the floor in the back?”

Aside from Dean’s tirade against turnpikes, and the New York one in particular, the rest of the twelve hour drive was spent discussing the case ahead of them. They pulled into the parking lot of the Autumn Inn around 10pm, late enough in the small town for them to feel out of place and obnoxiously loud as they grabbed their bags and made their way into the office.

“Hey, we need a room for a week.” Dean offered instead of introductions to the bored looking college kid behind the counter.

“Uh-huh. Peepers? Little early for it, though you might catch some good colors by the end of the week.” The kid turned towards his computer, typing away, adding the info from Dean’s matching fake ID and stolen credit card.

“Peeper? No, uh, we’re FBI, here to check out the missing people.” Sam stepped up to the counter and met the kid’s disbelieving gaze across the counter top. The kid looked from Sam to Dean and back for a moment, all the while his fingers tapping on his keyboard and setting up the info for the room rental.

“Hmmmm. Feebs couldn’t put you up in the Holiday Inn at least? Anyway, here’s your paperwork Mister Mercury, Mister May. You’re in 101, last room, first floor on the corner of the building.” Without another word they picked up their bags and turned towards the door to head towards their room.

“Guys? You know civil unions have been legal here for like, six years? You don’t have to hide who you are up here. I know small towns have a bad rep for that kind of thing but…” the kid trailed off with a shrug, clearly not reading the shock, disbelief and frustration rolling off Sam and Dean. “It’s a nice town here.”

Dean, fed up with the assumptions and cranky after a long day spending too much money driving through New York, thrust his bag at Sam, yanked his phony badge out of his pocket and all but shoved it into the kid’s face.

“Yeah, real nice town you got here. Assuming things about strangers. And what about all the missing people? People who just go for a walk in the woods and are never heard from again? That part of what you consider when you’re talking about your nice, small town?”

“Dean!” Sam barked from the door, causing Dean to jump and turn towards the unfamiliar sound of Sam’s anger directed at him. “That’s enough. Kid was trying to be friendly, I know it’s been a while but that’s what that looks like. Get your bag and I’ll meet you at the room.”

Dean grabbed his bag from Sam’s arms and shoved his way out the front door, his anger boiling over for some unknown reason. He was mad at the kid, mad at Sam, mad at himself and he didn’t know why. From the corner of his eye he saw the familiar golden arches of a McDonald’s a block and a half away and decided that, with his current luck, it was the only thing that would be open. He stomped to the room and tossed his bag inside before pulling the door shut and making his way towards the street to walk over. He passed Sam on his way, grunted out “burger” and gestured with his chin but didn’t stop beyond that.

By the time Dean was feeling like himself again, Sam was sitting in the booth across him from, his McDonald’s salad looking sad under the harsh lights as he made googly eyes at Dean’s french fries. Dean shoved the rapidly cooling fries across the tiny table and sat back, looking out the window at the dark woods surrounding them.

“This might be the cleanest McDonald’s we’ve ever been in.” Sam offered around a mouthful of fries and lettuce and it made Dean snort out a laugh. He crumpled up the remnants of wax paper from his burgers and effortlessly tossed them into the trash can a few feet behind Sam.

“What else do they have to do but keep things clean? We’ve been in the middle of nowhere before Sammy, but not quite like this. New England… I mean, even Dad avoided it for the most part.”

Dean checked the empty dining room and glanced up towards the counter to make sure no one was trying to listen to what he was saying. “Look, New England has ghosts in every corner and they’ve learned to live with it. They like their witches and they believe in faeries and old gods and new gods and I dunno, man, it creeps me out up here. How people are so quick to accept that faeries did it or whatever? When most of the other places we work wanna get rid of the ghosts, people up here just learn to live with them. Most of the people up here wouldn’t even flinch if we tell them who we really are and what we really do and that makes me nervous.”

Sam nodded, putting all his trash in the little plastic bowl of his salad remnants and got up to throw them away. “Why did you agree to come up here and take the job then? Is that why you’re all… bitchy?” He asked as he gestured towards the door and waited for Dean to get up.

“Nah, and if anyone is the bitch here it’s you. But I dunno, Sammy, jobs up here and this one in particular, something feels off. I’m not scared but if I were different person I might use that word. Something feels big about this one.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Verity watched the two handsome strangers walk towards the Autumn Inn on the corner and smiled to herself. The most beautiful ones gave Enlil the most power and that was just what she needed. It had been some time since Enlil had gotten a tribute as beautiful as the elder of those two strangers but oh, the things that could be done with that power. She only had to spend a little time learning about them both so that when it came time to snatch him, Constance would have a laundry list of horrible things to hear about him.

She pulled her cloak around herself and made her way towards the hotel, making sure to keep to the shadows. It was not yet late enough that she had to be home--Constance would be out tending to the moon garden till midnight, perhaps later since with the waning moon it was time to harvest the primrose for it’s oils. She watched the strangers open and shut their hotel room door from the dark shadow of a large maple tree and counted to fifty before she began to move closer, giving them time to settle in and away from their windows.

When she was up against their wall and listening to their thoughts, she had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud; Dean, her chosen one, was the elder brother and his mind was so deliciously twisted- beautiful and horrible- that she knew he was perfect in an instant. She listened for a few moments before slipping away, already trying to decide how to draw them out. Her excitement rose as she listened to his thoughts and she had to steal away into the night before she let out a sound of exultation; he was perfect. He might be the most perfect tribute they’d had for Enlil for over 300 years.

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Dean’s uneasy feeling passed to Sam by the end of their first day of interviews. They’d talked to police, retired police, locals, tourists, and even some of the students at the college and had gotten roughly the same story from everyone: “Stay away from the woods.” Not even a certain area of the woods, just the woods. Considering they were in Vermont, and the foothills of the White Mountains, that was easier said than done.

For the next few days they widened the circle, heading further and further outside the city until they were nearly back in New York and Dean kept looking over his shoulder. He felt like someone, something was watching him. They walked into the herbalists shop they’d been directed towards and Dean reached up to scratch at the skin beneath the amulet on his chest.

“Stop that, what are you doing?” Sam slapped at his hand, smiling absently at the plump and pleasant looking woman behind the counter.

“I dunno, it suddenly started itching. You know how it feels itchy on your skin before it starts to burn?” Dean offered, snaking his fingers through the gap in the buttons on his dress shirt to scratch again.

“You look like a junkie waiting on his next hit. Stop it or, at least, wait till we’ve interviewed her!” Sam hissed before yanking Dean’s hand away from his chest and pulling out his fake badge to show the woman behind the counter.

“Hi, I’m agent May and this is my partner Agent Mercury and we’ve been in town investigating a series of disappearances. Someone told us that we should come talk to you as you’ve lived in this area all your life.”

“Oh, not all my life but for a very long time, young man. Agent May, was it? My name is Constance, but no one calls me that, please call me Connie. I have heard about those people vanishing, it’s a terrible thing. So sad. The woods out there can be a treacherous place….” Connie began talking- about the woods, about kids getting bored while growing up in a small town and running away and more, but Dean tuned her out in favor of looking around her shop.

Bobby had gotten John into a few herbal healing rubs back when Sam was still “the short one” of their group and Dean had spent time to learn a lot about them himself; Connie had some high quality products on her shelves. He found himself wandering over to a window display of burn creams near a giant aloe plant when he happened to look up and glimpse out the window.

There was a face, right there on the other side of the window and it was starting right at him. He jumped, taking a huge step backwards and nearly knocking over a potted plant on his dash towards the door. By the time he’d made it outside, the woman who’d been looking at him was gone, not even a footprint left behind in the soft dirt below the window.

The wind picked up out of nowhere, blowing so hard and so suddenly that it ruffled his hair and made his skin burn with the force of it. As a result, he didn’t notice the burning sensation on his chest till he was back inside the store, stammering out an explanation to the shopkeep and his incredulous brother.

Over dinner at a gastropub, where Dean couldn’t stop rolling his eyes at the pretentiousness except for when the waitress come to the table, they were able to narrow the last dozen disappearances to a 5 mile stretch along route 9 heading towards the edge of town.

Dean sat back in his chair, the map shoved away from him across their cleared table. He felt a little like Han Solo, but not in the cool way; in the “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” way and he shared as much with his brother.

“Look, I don’t really like it either. We have no plan and no idea what could be out there. I don’t understand how something could be taking all these people for as long as I can trace back, past the incorporation of Bennington as a freaking town, and leave no trace. But we gotta do it. If it holds true to form, at least another two people are gonna vanish this year before whatever it is goes dormant again.” Sam was leaning forward across the table, imploring Dean to listen and ignore his gut.

“Look, Sammy, my gut says…” Dean started, but Sam cut him off.

“Isn’t this what you and dad wanted? Saving people, hunting things? Your gut can’t be right all the time, right?” Sam pushed just like he always did and Dean gave in to him, just  like he always did.

“Yeah, alright Sammy. But we’re not going out there tonight, we can go in the morning. We’re not going into the woods unless it’s full light.” Grumpily Dean stood from the table and tossed down enough money to cover their probably ridiculous bill. “I’m tired and my chest won’t stop itching, like I’m allergic to something out here/ Let’s go get a couple of six packs and head back to the hotel.”

Sam looked like he wanted to argue but Dean turned and resolutely walked out of the restaurant so that Sam could follow or be left behind. He only had to wait at the car for a few seconds for Sam to follow him out, thoughtful frown on his face.

Back at the hotel, Sam set himself up at the small table with his laptop and Dean plopped himself down onto Sam’s bed to switch on the tv. He’d just crossed his ankles and settled himself into the sub-par mattress when he realized that he’d left the beer by the door.

“Sammy, beer me?” He heard a sigh and the odd but soothing sounds of fingers clacking on the keyboard and was just about to ask again when everything went quiet, even the television. He blinked and turned his head to look towards his brother when the lights flickered and both of them jumped up from their spots. From his periphery Dean saw Sam scan the salt lines as Dean scented the air and took two long strides to reach his bag on the floor and his gun. The flickering stopped as quickly as it began and Dean turned to catch Sam’s eye.

“Salt lines are intact.” Sam offered as he made his way towards Dean.

“No cold spots. Wards still intact,” Dean answered as he passed Sam his own gun. They stood in silence for a moment more, the tv flickering back to life and the ending credit music for Ghostbusters blasted over the room.

“I don’t fucking like this Sammy.” Dean checked the safety on his gun before he shoved it into his waistband and headed over to grab a beer from the table. “Something is seriously off about this place and for fuck’s sake why is my chest itching?” Dean looked down at himself noticing that he was nearly ripping his undershirt, scratching at it as vigorously as he was. His fingers bumped against his amulet in the process of trying to get to the worst of the itch and he pulled his hand out of his shirt with a hiss.

“Fucking amulet is burning me.”

“What?” Sam asked, surprised. He stepped close enough into Dean’s personal space that Dean could smell Sam’s deodorant as Sam grabbed for the cord around his neck to pull the brass amulet out from under his shirt.

“Doesn’t feel hot to me.” Sam offered, the ugly thing resting against his fingertips in full view of the light.

“It fucking feels hot to me. It feels like it’s cooking me.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Verity and Constance observed the boys from their vantage point at the window. Constance was frowning at them as though they were some kind of puzzle but Verity was pleased; the more she learned about these hunters, the more her mind was made up that Dean was a perfect sacrifice. She could already feel the power that would come from him.

“What is that amulet, Sister, can you see or sense it?” Constance asked, moving to the middle of the window where the men could clearly see her if they were not preoccupied with what was happening inside of their hotel room.

“No, and it does not matter. Constance, get away from the center of the window, they could see you.This hunter is strong. We will need to give Enlil another sacrifice tonight before we can take him.”

Constance looked at her sister from the corner of her eye, “I suppose that you already have someone chosen?” She asked as they walked away from the hotel and back towards town.

“Oh yes. Let’s take him and make a sacrifice tonight so that we have the power to take the hunter tomorrow. You heard their plans as well as I, sister, they are coming into the woods once the sun is up. Time will not wait for us.” Verity drew ahead of her sister, confident in the direction she was walking. She had not already located a proper sacrifice but living among these modern people and their lack of values and knowing what is right and what is wrong taught her that most people were unclean and deserved to be sacrificed.

She zeroed in on the young man working behind the counter of the Hotel that the brothers were staying in. She could sense his thoughts, nothing but sex, sex, sex. Filthy people these modern people were. She indicated the boy to her sister who dashed off into the darkness to gather the last minute herb needed to stupefy the boy so they could take him. It was a matter of moments and they were off towards their meeting place in the woods, the young man following blindly behind like a zombie.

They’d have to rouse him before they summoned Enlil.

Verity didn’t even notice the shards of bone under foot in the clearing anymore, but each step made Constance wince. She was growing tired of this life, of stealing the futures of young people to continue forward with her own life.

“Tie him to the sacrificial tree, sister, and I will summon Enlil.” Constance turned towards the blank young man to her side, gesturing for him to step towards the large tree at the end of the oblong clearing. He stumbled over the fragment of a jaw as he walked, falling to his knees.

“Up, up.” Constance urged, wanting to be well away from Enlil’s sacrifice before he arrived in the clearing.

She grabbed the boy’s arm and dragged him to the tree, fastening the wrist manacles, snatching the clover and lavender from his breast pocket and dousing her flashlight with practiced movements. She felt the wind that signaled the arrival of the God and hurried away from the now panicking teenager. When Enlil arrived Constance was safely tucked against her sisters side watching the boy cry and feeling her heart shatter.

“Such weakness. Such filthy thoughts earlier and showing nothing but weakness now. You should be grateful child, that your life will now serve a purpose.” Verity called out towards the weeping teen, as Enlil swept closer to him. She could feel the tether of the spell holding Enlil in check as he stopped directly in front of the boy.

For centuries she’d watched Enlil wreak his havoc against humans but still struggled to explain it even in her own mind. He always leaned in close to the victim, saying something in his ancient, harsh tongue that made them scream. Then, with a crack that echoed inside of her skull there was a miniature tornado, flaying the flesh and muscle from bone. She closed her eyes at that part, not from a desire to not watch but because once the muscles were rend from bone, that was when she felt the power flow into her. She squeezed her sisters fingers as the rush of youth and energy invigorated her, not noticing that Constance was weeping at her side. When she opened her eyes there was very little left to see of the victim, a few identifiable pieces of bone swirling inside the calming wind. She watched, mesmerized as they whittled down to shards and dust before Enlil took his powers back into himself.

She heard Constance utter the vanishing spell, sending Enlil back to wherever he stayed when they did not need him and Verity flexed her fingers, in love with the vigor she felt in them again.

“Come sister, lets go bed.” And with that, they were off into the woods to seek their hidden home, waiting for the next day when they would take a beautiful hunter and all his power.

———————————————-

“I’m not ashamed to say I’m a little freaked out Sammy.” Dean looked over at his brother where he was perched on the bed farthest from the door. Sam looked calm, like he was working something out in his head; Dean felt frantic with the need to leave and get himself and his brother far away from this place. He reached up to scratch at the skin beneath his amulet again. It stopped burning but the skin below felt like it was healing and it itched.

“Keep your hands off it, Dean.” Suddenly Sam was there, in his face and pulling his fingers away from his chest. Sam bent his neck to inspect the area he’d been itching and for a moment Dean though Sam was going to kiss the skin there. He shuddered at the thought, shifting his hips to try and hide the sudden, slight rush of blood to his cock at the image of Sam’s mouth on him.

“It’s not hurting you anymore and whatever was affecting our room stopped. Let’s have those beers and find Indiana Jones or something on TV.”

“How the fuck are you so calm about this? Something got through the wards, Sammy.” Dean paced between the two beds, shoving Sam down so that he was between his brother and the door; he couldn’t take his eyes off the door even for a second, thinking something was going to burst through it at any moment.

“It didn’t fully break the wards. They’re all still intact. The lights flickered.” Sam replied, still far too calm. Dean paced more, indecisive about what he wanted to do next. Suddenly, something that Sam said penetrated the fog of panic in his head.

“Where did you come up with Indiana Jones?” Dean asked as he let himself be led to Sam’s bed and shoved down with a beer in his hand.

“Crappy motel room like this? One of the channels is always showing something like that.” Sam handed him the remote and sat next to him, their bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Dean mindlessly clicked through the channels and tried to focus on anything other than the fear he was feeling or the way Sam’s body heat was seeping into him.

They didn’t find Indy but they did find a Star Wars marathon and that was just as good. They drank and watched in silence as Sam slumped lower and lower on the bed till his head was pressed against Deans hip on the pillow and he was asleep.

At the first snore, dean pulled his eyes from the TV to observe his brother. His beautiful, inside and out, brother. He wanted so much more than what they had but the taboo of it and the fear of being rejected by the person he cared for more than anything else in the world were stumbling blocks that he didn’t think he could get over.

———————————————

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Dean said for the hundredth time since they’d left the motel the next morning. Though it was fall, they’d been warned it was cold in the woods so they’d dressed in additional layers, both of them carrying backpacks with extra supplies. Dean pulled the keys from the ignition and they listened to the clicking of the cooling engine.

“Knew we shouldn’t have watched Star Wars last night,” Sam grumbled. “Dean, it’s gonna be fine, we are gonna go in there, gank whatever is killing people and get out. We will be back in the Impala leaving Vermont before you know it.”

Sam nearly threw himself out of the car and popped the trunk to grab their bags. Dean took a deep breath to steady himself and got out of the car too, hiding the keys in his backpack before hauling it up onto his shoulders.

Not ten paces into the trees and it was oppressively dark. Dean called a halt and they each pulled a flashlight from their packs before heading forward. Ten paces more and the hint of sunlight at the opening of the trail they’d decided on was gone. They hiked on in silence, the rustling of leaves under their feet and their slightly labored breathing the only sounds they could hear; like the darkness and silence of the woods were nearly tangible. After an hour with no sign of anything, Dean stepped to the side of the trail and pulled a bottle of water from his bag.

“It’s too quiet in here,” he mumbled around the mouth of the bottle before passing it to Sam.

“I was kinda thinking the same thing. Even for late fall in the north we should be hearing some animals, birds, something in here. But all I hear is the sounds we’re making.” Sam gulped half the water remaining and held the bottle out to his brother.

Suddenly, the wind picked up until it was crashing into them, nearly lifting Sam off his feet where he stood. Sam and Dean both covered their faces to protect them from the harsh wind, which felt much warmer than it should have been considering the temperature in the woods.

Dean yelled, pulling his hand away from his face to clutch at his chest where the amulet rested against his skin. There was the cloying scent of burned flesh and cotton before the wind picked up again, causing Sam to drop to his knees and cover his head with his arms. As quick as it began, it stopped, leaving Sam’s ears ringing. When he lifted his head and blinked to make sure that his eyes weren’t damaged, he noticed he was alone in the woods, no sign his brother had ever been there besides the second backpack on the ground, half buried in leaves like his own.

“DEAN?” he yelled, but it didn’t even echo. His brother was gone.

“Dean! DEAN? Dean where are you?” He couldn’t keep the panic out of his voice. His brother had just vanished, not a trace. There was no sound, no blood or trail to follow and everything in the small area they where were last standing together was disturbed from the unnatural wind. In a panic, Sam did the one thing that he knew he should not do; he rans. He ran towards where he thought the road was, he ran towards where he thought they left the car.

They did enough survival training as kids that Sam should know better but he can’t think straight. He dashed off in a random direction, forgetting about the compass in his pocket, forgetting even that he was carrying a flashlight to help light the way in the unnatural darkness of the trees. He had to find his brother.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Dean awakened in a different part of the woods to the feeling of his amulet blistering the skin of his chest. He ground  his teeth to keep from crying out in pain; he’s no rookie, he knew better than that. But when his eyes focused in the darkness and he saw the face in front of his own, nearly all his training flew out of his head.

He’d never seen anything even remotely like it.

It’s humanoid, certainly. The face is beautiful and terrible. It’s old and young and timeless. It’s familiar and totally alien. It’s all these things and more all at once but the thing that made Dean's heart race and him nearly forget every bit of training he ever got was the malevolent yet still vacant look in its eyes.

“Ahh good, our sacrifice is awakened. He does so enjoy it when they’re awake and can fight.” A nondescript woman stepped out from the shadows with a maniacal grin. “Or try to fight him, anyway.” She made a gesture with the first two fingers of her left hand, moving forward in a corkscrew movement and Dean knew he had to try and stall. He had no idea what would happen to him if this woman and her creature got their way but he knew it would not be good.

“And who is he? Who are you, while I’m awake and asking questions? I mean, it’s only right I get to know who’s trying to kill me, right?” He paused, looking at her face again, “I’ve seen you before. I know you. You’ve been watching me, me and my brother.”

The woman smiled and stepped closer, peering into his face as though she was reading his mind.

“My name is Verity Adams and this is Enlil, king of Gods. He is going to devour you to grant my sister and I immortal life.” Her matter of fact words sent a chill up Dean’s spine.

“How’s that work, then? You’ve just been stealing random people from the woods for years and, what, absorbing their life force?” Even for Dean, who'd been involved in the supernatural world since he was practically a child, that seemed a little far-fetched. But Verity smiled and stepped closer to him, and he could see the age in her eyes. It lent her an appearance like the zombie god creature who was now vacantly watching from the corner.

“We find the most corrupted souls. The ones with the filthiest minds and desires. You are the worst we’ve seen in some time. You and your….” Verity trailed off, looking Dean up and down before meeting his eyes. He felt exposed, even though he was fully dressed, “brother.”

The words were said with such disdain that Dean knew she could truly see into his head. She knew how he felt about Sam, what he wanted from Sam.

———————————————————

Sam knew he’d seen that maple tree before, the one with the homemade taps. He was lost, walking in circles and even though he was no longer frantic, he still wasn’t thinking clearly. He put his back to the tapped maple tree and slid to the ground, head in his hands. He couldn’t recall when he’d even left the trail they’d followed into the woods.

He focused on his breathing first, in-out-in-out, till it was calm and regular. Then he focused on his heartbeat, slowing it till it was calm and regular.

“Think it through.” He said aloud, lifting his head, straightening his back and closing his eyes to block out the view of the dark woods around him.

He had no idea he was being observed.

“Is it best to find your way out of the woods? No, stay close to where Dean was that way it will take less time to get to him once you figure it out.”

He opened his eyes but didn’t focus them to allow him to better visualize the moments before Dean vanished. The wind had picked up out of nowhere, hot and fierce and stinging. Sam had dropped to his knees and covered his head. He thought he recalled hearing Dean cry out in pain, probably the phantom burning from the amulet again, but then the wind was even worse before it stopped suddenly enough that his ears were ringing.

“Okay, there’s… there’s nothing there. Nothing to point me towards Dean. So the case then. Focus on the case. Clearly it’s linked, so if you solve the case, you’ll find Dean.” He knew how ridiculous it was to speak aloud to himself but he’d learned a few years ago at school just how much it helped him to order his thoughts.

“We’ve got vanishings in the woods, going back hundreds of years. No trace of the victims ever found but always in the same general area. What have we learned since we got here?” He closed his eyes to think, to see the images of his notes in his mind’s eye.

“Wind and the amulet burning. What does the amulet do? Bobby just told me it was for protection.” He dropped his forehead to his drawn up knees. None of this was helpful. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he totally missed the approach of another person.

“It’s an indicator of God.”

Sam’s head snapped up at the familiar voice and looked up into the eyes of Connie the herbalist. He shoved himself to his feet as quick as he could and groped for his gun in the waistband of his jeans.

“I heard you speaking to yourself. It took some time for me to find the information about your brother’s amulet, but I found references to it. It’s a powerful talisman that your brother wears and it is meant to indicate that God is nearby.” Connie offered. Sam felt no malice coming from her but he was so turned on his head he refused to let down his guard. “Or a God.”

“A god? What does that even mean? Who are you and what is going on? You clearly know more than you told us before.” Sam demanded, his gun in his hand but the barrel pointed towards the ground; he needed answers and his brother more than he needed to kill an old lady in the woods.

“My sisters and I...we lived in Salem Massachusetts a very long time ago. When the menfolk became suspicious of women with knowledge, midwifery mostly but some herbal knowledge, they began to accuse innocent women of witchcraft.” Connie looked up and gave a sad smile. “As we were actually witches, we thought it wise to leave before we were hanged or burned. I’ve always regretted not staying, not trying to help those women.” She moved slowly to put her back to a tree, still keeping Sam fully in front of her where she could not hide anything.

“I don’t know if they teach the Salem Witch Trials in schools outside of New England but I have carried the guilt for so many years. Anyway, my sisters - Verity and Amity - we fled the coast and made a home for ourselves in the hills and woods here. The first winter was so difficult. We didn’t think we would survive.”

Sam ground his teeth together, fighting the impulse to tell her that he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to get his brother until she explained what was going on. He needed to know what he was going to be fighting.

“Verity had our mother’s spell book, passed down through the generations of our family. Inside was a summoning spell to give us strength. We didn’t know what would happen when we performed the spell.” Connie was wringing her hands now, tears slipping down her cheeks and Sam felt a drop of sympathy. Though she was behind hundreds of years of killings and she had his brother, Connie was clearly remorseful.

“What happened? What has my brother? How did you have enough power to get past our salt lines and protective spells at the hotel?”

“The spell was ancient even back then. It summoned Enlil, God of the Winds. He hasn’t been worshipped since Sumeria. It made him into our slave. As long as we kept him fed with human life force, he supplied us with everlasting life, if not youth, and power.”

“This Enlil has my brother? What is he doing to him?”

“Verity will be waiting for me before she completes the ritual. She told us that she was only ever taking impure people. But that word has a different meaning for Verity than it does for me.” Connie stopped to wipe the tears from her face again. “She told me that Amity was impure enough to be sacrificed. I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t strong enough. But I’ve lived enough. I no longer believe my sister when she says that she’s taking the people from society that do harm to others. I read your brother, before Enlil took him. He’s got a good heart. He loves so deeply. Even his love for you, his brother, is so pure and so deep that there could not be anything impure about it.”

Sam’s breath caught at her words. He’d always loved his brother; the idea that Dean loved him back was enough to get him moving again.

“We have to get to them. How can I kill Enlil?”

Connie smiled and shook her head, pulling a small scrap of paper along with a bundle of herbs from her pocket and pressed them into Sam’s hand.

“You can’t kill a God, even one that no longer has any worshippers. You have to change the spell that Verity used so that he turns on us. It’s time. We need to leave this world and he needs to be restored to himself. Memorize the spell and follow me, I will make sure that you don’t lose the path again.”

Sam began reading the spell as they walked, his flashlight trained on the ancient language and his periphery keeping Connie in sight so that he could follow her. She stopped and turned to him. “Ten more paces here, turn left at that copse of birch trees with no bark and ten more paces will bring you into the clearing. Let me get to the birch trees before you follow, recite the spell once you reach them. By the time you get into the clearing, it should be all over. Keep those herbs in your hand at all times. No matter what happens, do not release them, for it is powerful protection for you and your brother, Sam Winchester.”

“Will Enlil be under my control when I recite the spell?” Sam asked.

Connie reached up and stroked his face, smiling softly.

“No, that spell will release him from Verity’s control and bring him back to himself. There will be no more vacancy in his eyes. I’ve done research on many things in the long years I’ve had on this Earth and Enlil will not take kindly to what my sister and I have done to him for all these years. He will take us and absorb our power. He will be grateful to you for releasing him. Now, follow my instructions exactly.” With that, she walked off, letting Sam follow her path as she went so there would be no mistakes as to where he needed to go.

She vanished from the birch trees and he followed, his steps light. Once at the trees he turned towards the left and could see light coming between the gaps of two larger trees. He began to recite the spell as he walked closer to the clearing, closer to his brother.

Through the gaps between the trees, he took in the scene; Connie and Verity to one side and his brother held up against a large tree at the end of the clearing. In the center, he could see Enlil, larger than life and beyond comprehension, much like a living, breathing ancient carving. Sam’s hands trembled as he completed the spell, the paper vanishing in a puff of sweet Bay scented smoke.

Sam barely held back from rushing forward as Enlil visibly shuddered from his head to his feet. He began to radiate light and Sam heard Dean cry out in pain as his amulet burned a hole in his shirt and glowed red hot in the gloom of the clearing. Sam clenched his fist around the herbs in his hand as Enlil turned away from Dean and towards the witches, straining to hear what they were saying.

“What have you done, sister?” Verity hissed as she tried to back away from the imposing God.

“I have ended this. We are not doing good works, we are not clearing the world of bad people. We are being selfish. It is time to stop killing innocent people for our own vanity. It is time to stop enslaving a god that is far more powerful than ourselves. We are through, sister; if you beg, he may make it quick for us.”

Before Verity could reply or plead with Enlil for a quick death the wind grew deafening. Even watching from behind the line of trees, Sam was forced to drop his eyes to the ground as Enlil got closer and closer to the sisters. Holding to the nearest trees to keep his feet, Sam moved towards his brother, but before he could reach him, he was knocked off his feet by the gale force winds shrieking through the clearing.

When the wind died down the witches were gone with not a trace left behind. Sam immediately looked for Dean, took in the crumpled form of his brother, and dashed toward him, falling to his knees on the ground and grabbing Dean by the shoulders to make sure he was breathing. Once he saw the steady, healthy heartbeat in his neck and the rise and fall of Dean’s chest, he raised his eyes to the figure he could feel towering above him.

When he met the re-awakened eyes of Enlil, no longer vacant at all, Sam felt fear for the first time in a long time. The power radiating from Enlil was like nothing Sam had ever experienced before. It was like a physical sensation of the sun beating down against his skin. It felt too good to be malevolent.

“You have helped me.” Enlil’s voice was the sound of a rockslide or the roar of a hurricane, rumbling through them as though the earth itself was moving.

“I.. yes, I suppose we did. As the King of Gods you never requested human sacrifice, did you?” Sam stood and stepped forward, putting faith in his bluff. He’d not done a lot of research on Sumerian Gods but he allowed his open honesty and curiosity about the God in front of them to show on his face. But when Enlil turned the full force of his attention back to Sam, he couldn’t help but take a step backwards, bumping into Dean who had woken and gotten up from his slump on the ground.

“No, Samuel Winchester, I never demanded or even requested human sacrifice. I asked for my people to live good lives. To flourish and grow and, occasionally, obey.”

“Yeah, don’t doubt that.” Dean mumbled into the back of Sam’s shoulder as he dug his fingers into Sam’s hip, wishing they were anywhere but here and keeping Sam close.

“Did you say something, Dean Winchester? Sarcasm is not a new form of humor, though each generation thinks they have invented it anew.” The ghost of a smile came across Enlil’s face and both Sam and Dean stepped backwards again, awestruck by the beautiful and terrible power in his expression. Divine was the only description that fit when Sam tried to name it. He felt the heel of his boot sink into the toe of Dean’s and was comforted by how close he was.

“Did you just make a joke?” Dean asked from behind Sam’s shoulder as he tried to move so that he was in front of Sam, despite both of them wanting to get away from the power emanating from the being in front of them. Sam planted his feet and refused to let Dean in front of him, keeping his injured brother further away from Enlil than he was.

“I did. The concept of humor has existed for a long time as well, it was not invented by your contemporaries or even your forefathers.” Enlil turned to face the entrance t the clearing. “It was invented, in fact, by my sister-wife Ninlil.”

“Sister-wife? Is that like a sister in law?” Sam asked, and the area went very quiet.

Enlil turned again, looking at Sam and Dean for a long time before the rumble of his voice shook the clearing.

“The problem with you humans is that you decide what you think is right and proper and try to force everyone else to live by your rules. What is right for you may not be right for your neighbor; what is right for your neighbor may not be right for anyone else.” Enlil sighed and his shoulder slumped momentarily, and it was such a human sound and gesture that Sam couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the wrongness of it on the deity.

“Sister wife means both sister and wife. One being, two roles in my life. She is…” Enlil paused, gaze distant as the temperature suddenly dropped. “She was my everything. A feeling I’m certain that you, brothers Winchester, are familiar with?”

“She’s… gone?” Dean was pressed against Sam’s back, touching from knee to shoulder as he asked. If Sam wouldn’t let him in front to protect him, he was going to press himself as close to Sam as he could get with as weak as he was.

“I do not know. I can not sense her but the world was much smaller the last time I was awake. She could simply be far away. I intend to give you two a gift for helping me, and then depart to try and find her.”

“You want to give us a gift?” Sam stuttered, twisting his head around to look at his brother questioningly. Accepting a gift from an ancient God sounded like a bad idea but refusing it sounded worse.

“Yes, Winchesters, I intend to give you a gift.” Enlil raised his right hand, curled in his middle and pinky fingers and pointed the index and ring fingers at Sam and Dean. He began to speak, but not in words that Sam and Dean could understand. It started like the sound of a gentle breeze and built slowly till it was the sound of a raging storm, forcing both men to cover their eyes and ears. Abruptly it stopped, Sam and Dean’s ears popping with the sudden pressure change.

Dean patted Sam’s chest and arms, glancing down at himself perfunctorily, to check that they were both still whole and breathing. When he couldn’t find anything physically wrong with either of them he lifted his eyes towards Enlil, who was smiling slightly.

“What have you done to us?” Dean asked, his blood thumping fast in his ears. Enlil took a step towards them.

“I have gifted you with the ability to express your love without the guilt or shame that society has forced upon you.” Enlil’s voice suddenly became soft. “I’ve given you the gift to always be AHU DIM or brother husbands without concern or care for what others think.”

Dean turned his head and caught Sam’s eye, seeing all the love he felt for his brother reflected back at him. As one, they turned back towards Enlil, but not before they linked their hands together behind Sam’s back.

“Good. I go now to find my beloved sister-wife or find a way to join her in ANUNNAKI so that we may be together forever.” And with a gentle rustle of leaves, Enlil was gone.

Dean felt Sam squeeze their entwined fingers. “Do you think…” Sam started but stopped as he turned to face Dean, standing toe to toe with their knees bumping together.

“I didn’t think you wanted me like I wanted you.” Sam’s voice was full of the awe that Dean was feeling at that very moment.

“I’ve never wanted anything but you.” Dean lifted his free hand and cupped Sam’s jaw, pulling his head down for a kiss. “Now get me the hell out of these woods.”


End file.
